Burn The Black Suit

With seven of the tracks stretching over four minutes you can't complain about value for money on Burn The Black Suit. As it happens, Juliet Turner's performances are so captivating that you don't even notice the time passing. The fact that Turner has no qualms about singing in her own beguiling Norn Iron accent, most noticeably on 'Take The Money And Run' and ''Belfast Central', should send an appropriate message to all those sub-Gallagher and sub-Dolores wannabes.

The title track has a salsa-lite feel to it that could quickly wear out your repeat button and 'Sorry To Say' is more in the same vein. The single 'Take The Money and Run', with its irrestible loping rhythm and made-for-karaoke chorus, is a superb sliver of intelligent pop and her disturbingly beautiful version of Tom Waits' 'I Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You' is ruined only by Brian Kennedy's overblown contribution. But the real sonic masterpiece here is the organ-driven 'Dr Fell', with that gloriously alive sound of the street that Dylan always seeks to achieve with his bands.

Lengthy narrative songs spiced with bite, humour and honesty, like her 'Narcissus', 'Queen Canal Street' and 'Call Me Green', have not been such common currency since the days of the late Harry Chapin. With Burn The Black Suit, Turner has proven that, contrary to accepted wisdom, you can dance to intelligent and literate songs.

Alongside Siniad Lohan and Eleanor McEvoy, she is also showing that Irish women can write relevant songs with substance and perform them with more balls than our shouty-pointy rock poseurs and with more grace than a Blarney castle full of demure colleens. But then somebody's go to do it.